These are the children that are born in the gutters of a woman's womb, and this is without disrespect to womanhood or motherhood..their mothers and their fathers spent their lives in the sewers , open gutters and this is their path to nirvana..they work as daily paid workers for the local municipality , their bodies are always smothered with dirt filth and feces..

Normally this lot that I shoot on my way to my work place are gutter scavengers , they search for gold particles at Bandra Jain Mandir Road where there are gold smith shops..and gradually collect a bit of gold that they sell back to the jewelers and return to their family homes in Andhra Pradesh.

I normally dont shoot kids in a state of undress but this childs look at me got the better of me as a street photographer , she was conveying a million things in a cosmic second.

gifted grand daughtera born photographerbefore she learntto crawlshe playedwith a camerabefore she playedwith a barbie dollfuck f stopsshutter speedaperture and allshootingthe soul of humanityrise and downfallchildren of the streetsthe beggars big and smalleven a tiny brickcan be a soulof the wallits not your heightyour grandeurbut your humilitythat makes you tall

Beggary will always remain as long as this world is run by money..it cannot disappear by using a magic wand.

Being a photographer who shoots pain , this is my subject on the canvas board of life.

Can you imagine a world without beggars ..no you cant ..so stop bullshitting ourselves to sleep beggars sell God more effectively than religious leaders or saints...Allah ke Name Pe..is more often raucously heard in most of the streets of despair..than Bhagwan Ke Nam Pe..

For a beggar his God is a God that belongs to everyone..and beggars dont need cameras to shoot the bareness of a photographers soul ... they shot me effectively too..

I dedicate this to my American friend family all rolled in one Dr Glenn Losack MD the patron Saint of all beggars in Delhi ..and Mumbai.…

Sometimes I Hate Shooting This, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1. no not totitillateyour guiltyconsciencea thoughtyou canconvenientlydismissstreet realityeven godwont changeso does it mattereven if youtake it amissbeing bornas a womanwas anincompleteblisswomana reservoir ofpain as is where is

The End Of The Road, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1. the road of painno beginning no endmuslim beggar womanher painher childrens painshe must tenda few almswill not changeher futureher doomeddestinyshe must fendwe buildgrand mosquesgreat madarsashouse of brickswe are contendwhile we have notime or the inclinationbroken housesor broken souls mendthe malaiseof sanctimoniousmale dominatedMuslim societyslaughteringexpensive goatsdumbasmoney spendthe slaughtered soulof her doomedmisfortuneno time to attenda helping handwe wont extendjihad for a better lifefor the Muslim womaneducation we suspenda woman's reservation billis all that mattersfor political machinationsfor political conveniencewhy do the netas pretendwhile the muslim poor womanwaits at the end of the tunnelback bend her faith heronly best friend fromthe hand that rockedthe cradle intothe cavernous holeof her graveshe will blend

Rehabilitation is something that is Missing from the Life of a Poor Muslim Be…